


A Fortunate Tragedy

by HeadlessLennon



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: A republish from a while ago bc I’m still happy with how the fic was written, Bath, Blood, Bottom John Lennon, Death, Gunshot Wounds, John Lennon - Freeform, John Lennon's Death, John Lennon/reader - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of decomposition, Necro, Necrophilia, Oral Sex, Wound Fucking, dead John Lennon, john lennon x reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27743218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadlessLennon/pseuds/HeadlessLennon
Summary: It’s the 8th of December, 1980, and you found yourself visiting New York. Little did you know you would end your visit with John Lennon’s freshly dead body in the backseat of your car.I’m reposting this bc while the fic is a bit out there, it’s still something I wrote (plus I really love the writing).
Relationships: John Lennon/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	A Fortunate Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

> TW: theyre all in the tags
> 
> Also PLEASE do not read this fic if it’s something that’ll bother you :(

I heard a bang, then a cry. A few more shots followed. 

Shit someone's been shot I thought, running over to where the sound was coming from. Then, I see him.

"Oh my god." There he was. John Lennon himself, shot and bleeding out on the sidewalk. He was laying on his stomach, and had been shot in the back, clearly some bullets went through him, because there was a large amount of blood under him. He looked up at me, his eyes screaming "help me". He was sprawled out, his glasses and and the ends of his hair covered in blood. John was clearly struggling to breathe, and was coughing up blood. A bullet had clearly punctured a lung.

"I've been shot please help me." John begged. 

Then as quickly as it happened, it was over. He took one final weak breath and went completely limp. There was shockingly no one around, besides people in surrounding buildings. Me and John. I couldn't have saved him even if I tried.

He had always been one of my favorite Beatles. "John." I say, gently shaking his body. I knew he was dead. But he still looked so alive. My hands slipped under him to flip him over onto his back. Majority of his clothes were soaked with blood. I did feel bad for the man, no one deserves to be shot. This was definitely a tragedy. "Oh John." I said softly. As much as sadness was going through me, another feeling was too. 

Lust. 

I shouldn't do anything to him to further degrade his body. But the urge to was so strong I had to give in. I began to feel his crotch, my hand cupping his flaccid penis through his pants. I brought my lips to his, the taste of his blood didn't stop me. My tongue slid into his mouth, and moved his head closer mine with my free hand. 

I stopped. Someone could see me doing this, I don't want to get arrested. My car was less than a block away, but how could I bring John's body there??

Suddenly I'm hit with an idea. I take off my jacket and put in on John (not with ease because he wasn't very cooperative), took off his glasses, and picked him up. He was lighter from the blood loss, and from being a generally skinny man. I could play it off by saying he passed out drunk maybe, and I'm bringing him home. 

I made it to my car quickly. No one saw me, so I put John in the back seat. Incase someone looks through the window, I buckled up the seatbelt and let him lean against the window.

He looked so peaceful. His pale skin looked beautiful in the moonlight. The way his eyes were slightly open, but a blank gaze was all that came from his eyes. The bleeding had slowed down as his heart wasn't beating anymore. But he was still leaking onto my car. How I was going to clean up afterwards was the least of my worries. 

My house was a bit of a drive away. But the more I drove, the more I craved the dead man in my backseat. Thoughts of fucking him and his wounds invaded my mind. My cock slick with his blood from fucking his bullet holes, his tight flesh around me. It all sounded amazing, and I was determined to get that.

When I arrived at my house, John was looking well dead. No longer asleep, just dead. Pale and bloody with sunken eyes. I got out of the car and carefully opened the backdoor. Thank god for the seatbelt, because if it wasn't for that John would've fell out and hit his head on the concrete. Which wouldn't really matter in the end, but I would hate to damage his pretty face. 

"How was the drive sweetie." I joked. 

In my worst impression of John possible I replied "It was great, though my chest is killing me." the little impression made me laugh. I unbuckled his seatbelt during this and let him lean on me. My hands ran down through his bloody hair, then ran along his jaw. Poor man was so skinny, no doubt from drug use. I should probably clean him up, it's the least I could do. 

After I managed to get his body into my house, I put him in my bathtub. His clothes were stained with a mixture of blood and piss, I wasn't complaining, but I'm sure he wouldn't want to be left in those clothes. I began with taking my jacket off of him, then I peeled his shirt off, revealing his damaged body. My hands ran across his chest, and stopped at a bullet hole that was just below the ribs. A finger sunk into it, feeling around for anything that could be uncomfortable, like a bullet, rib, or stomach acid (Incase a bullet punctured the stomach). The hole was narrow, but deep. “Must've went through him.” I thought to myself. “No wait of course it did he was shot in the back.”

I stopped myself.

"Sorry John, I'm here to clean you, I just got sidetracked." With your body.

I took his glasses out of my back pocket, and placed them on the edge of the tub. Reaching around me I found a towel, where I got up and wet under the sink. The blood on the lenses and frame was easy to wipe off, but blood was stuck in the crease of where the two touched. 

What an awful way to die. I thought when finishing up cleaning his glasses. At least this is one last hurrah for him. A clean up from all the blood, and a nice fuck.

I finished the glasses and put them next to me. The wet towel was flipped over and was used to clean off John's face. He had been bleeding out of his mouth, no doubt from coughing up all that blood. "You poor thing." I gave his forehead a small kiss. 

Next came off his pants and underwear, leaving him fully naked before me. I turned on the showerhead and began to spray his body. As much as I loved blood, I didn't want to dirty my bed with it.

The water pressure wasn't too high, but was enough to wash the nondried blood off. I gently scrubbed the dried blood off the front of his body, being careful of the wounds as if he was still alive. This wasn't a sexual moment for me. This was just me taking care of John, as if he were a friend. Of course once this was over and he was dried it would be a different case. I didn't mind washing him, frankly I enjoyed it. After the front of his body was clean, I gave an attempt in cleaning his backside as quickly as possible. I didn't care for it as much, at least not as much as the front. It was discolored from blood pooling from gravity, which wasn't shocking. 

Washing his hair was lovely, I made sure to close his eyes when washing the soap out. He looked better after being clean. It was less sad, just a dead man, not a clearly murdered dead man.

Drying him was going to be more of an issue, since he couldn't be of any help. But I managed to get it done. 

I put his glasses back on him. "Johnny you look lovely." The I took him by his ankles, and dragged him to my bedroom. The energy to carry him had left me, and anyways, the worst that would happen would he would get rug burn on his back. Not like it would matter, it's not like he could feel it.

He was laid down in my bed, still completely naked. I then undressed and got next to him, moved him so that he was laying on his side facing me with his legs bent so he wouldn't lean over onto his face. "You're so beautiful." I whispered to him. John's hand was moved onto my waist by me, and I moved mine to the side of his face. He still had warmth to him as he died around an hour ago. 

Then I remembered. I have to hurry before rigor mortis starts to set in. I wanted to fuck him while he was still fully limp. The drawer next to me had some lube in it, which would be helpful for sex.

I slowly inched his body upwards, until it was sitting up. John's head titled awkwardly to the side. My hands pushed his legs apart, and I brought my body in between. I applied some lube on my first few fingers and began to trace around the same exit hole from earlier, it wasn't big enough for me just yet, so I had to tear it a little. The lube was only to make it easier for me to enter, blood is a great lubricant, but the complete opposite when it starts to dry. I should've fucked him in the street when I had the chance. 

My cock ached for the man, he looked better than ever before sitting there. I pushed my fingers into the wound, two fingers this time. They thrusting in and out of the hole, as if I were fingering him. There was no point in this, I was just doing it for my own amusement. "How do you feel sweetie?" Nothing hopefully.

I took my fingers out and put lube on my cock. My legs were then straddled around his waist, I could feel his soft dick against my ass. I held my cock in my hand, and began to lead into the wound. The flesh was so tight it was practically impossible, but I got the head in. John looked indifferent to the situation. My cock went deeper, I was almost halfway in now. By now I began to move in and out, slowly getting deeper with each thrust. 

Blood was starting to leak out the wound, I no doubt tore the hole somewhere. My pace began to quicken, and a moan escaped from my mouth. This was far better than any sex I had had before. I'd never gotten to fuck a corpse before, and the fact that the first one I ever did fuck was a celebrity made this moment even more special.

Then suddenly, I came. Quicker than I had hoped, but it's not like John was going anywhere. I gave him a kiss on his cheek as I pulled out. 

I checked the clock on my bedside.

12:23 It read.

I shouldn't have wasted time cleaning him. The bitch is just gonna get stiff soon. 

An idea came to me. Sure rigor mortis was going to set in, but what if I made him freeze in a good pose? Legs spread, maybe his hand in a way so that I can jerk myself off with it. Mouth open definitely, I haven't had the chance to fuck his pretty mouth yet. Curiously, I tried moving his jaw a little, it was still loose thankfully. Blood still stained the inside, but I didn't have the energy to clean him up again. 

I began to rub the tip of my dick against John's thin lips. My erection had already grown back, and I planned on using it again with John. His mouth no longer naturally lubricated, so I had to use lube (again), if I wanted to fuck his face. His body wasn't in an ideal position however, I needed to move it.

Quickly I got off the bed. My hands grabbed onto his ankles, and walked around the bed and pulled them to me. His body fell over nicely, he was on his back with his neck and head leaning off the bed. I let go of his ankles and walked back over to his head. It was a little lower than I had liked, so I put a few pillows under his upper back, which raised his head up a little. 

With my left hand I grabbed onto the top of John's neck, right where it connected to his jaw. With my right, I led my cock into his open mouth. John's bottom row of teeth scraped against me but I didn't care, it didn't get in the way of anything. Once I was well inserted, I let go of my dick and joined my other hand on his neck. My grip tightened on his neck, enough to be choking him if he was still alive. "You're such a whore," I told the corpse, "just taking my cock like that."

Although I couldn't see his eyes, I knew what they looked like. They provided the response I craved.

As I quickened my pace, my grip on the man's throat tightened. I pulled his head closer to me with every thrust just to get every single inch in. The constant rubbing of his teeth was starting to make the top of my dick bleed. Not a lot, but enough to sting.

I could sense an orgasm coming again. Briefly I considered pulling out before coming, as to let his mouth stay almost untouched. Cumless at least. But in the end, and quite quickly, I decided to just cum in the corpse's mouth. It hit the back of his throat, and ran down to the top of his mouth. Whatever I'll just tilt him back up.

My hand caressed the side of his face. "You're such a pretty corpse... I'm glad to be with you." I pulled my dick out of his mouth, and eased him back up. By now I was getting used moving his weight around. 

It was getting late, and I was beginning to get tired. Some part of me wanted to stay up longer, as this would be the last chance to fuck John's fresh body limp. Unless... I broke the rigor mortis. I've never tried it before but I should be able to undo the stiffness in certain joints, the ones I need broken. Legs, arms, neck, and jaw. That's all I needed limp.

I put John's body under the covers, head on pillow. Just as if he was sleeping. Soon I joined him. "Goodnight Johnny." I sleepily said before holding his hand and dozing off.


End file.
